


wherever we go

by bananamuffin



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananamuffin/pseuds/bananamuffin
Summary: Jeff broke the silence first. “We kind of suck at long distance.”





	wherever we go

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this fic based on these [capricorn](https://twitter.com/poetastrologers/status/882826458401472513) and [aquarius](https://twitter.com/poetastrologers/status/882826540475711488) tweets from poetastrologers.  
> The T rating is just for the word "fucking" used a lot. And the title is from the song Running by James Bay.

A loud, annoying beep woke Mike up.

He didn’t open his eyes just yet—he didn’t know what time it was, but he was pretty sure he’d only been asleep for a few hours. And since that beep was definitely not his alarm, he was under no obligation to see why his phone was being loud.

He laid there a moment longer, quiet, until he was also pretty sure the other side of his bed was empty. He slipped his arm out from under the comforter and inched his hand across the bedspread until his arm was outstretched. He came up empty.

Mike opened his eyes and when he had confirmed that Jeff was not there, he clenched the comforter in his fist. Then, with a sigh, he rolled onto his side and picked his phone up.

_im at a bar so far from your house_  
_but if you love me you’ll come so come_

Annoyance flashed through Mike. If Jeff wanted to be with Mike right now he should have stayed the night. Especially when he knew Mike was headed to Manchester tomorrow morning for practice.

Jeff had been a lot more surprised than Mike at the news of Mike’s re-assignment. Mike had suspected for a while now that this was coming; he knew his game, his body, he could tell he was slowing down and getting less minutes, even after all the work he was putting in still. Not that any amount of extra work could lessen the pain of his headaches when they came.

While Mike had been preparing himself for this, Jeff had done a much better job of remaining optimistic. At least that was how Jeff had put it before he’d left. Mike just thought he was being stubborn, to the point that Jeff’s relentless optimism had started to get on his nerves. And with the news that Mike was being sent to Manchester, Jeff’s optimism had turned to outrage on Mike’s behalf and Mike was already tired of hearing about it.

“They’re sending me down for a reason,” he’d snapped at Jeff, who’d already started in on his “they’re making a mistake” spiel. “Stop fucking trying to make me feel better about it.”

Jeff had snapped his mouth shut and if it was directed at anyone but him, Mike might have been impressed by the amount of outrage conveyed in the silence, emanating across the kitchen bar that separated them.

The argument didn’t last very long—Mike had already made his peace with the re-assignment, mostly, and now he just had to convince Jeff to do the same.

Jeff, apparently, did not see it that way. The look of disbelief Jeff gave him when Mike said he’d just go annoyed Mike further.

“What the fuck do you want me to do?” Mike said angrily, pushing away from the bar. “Not fucking go? I’m barely hanging on to my job as it is!”

“I want you to be mad about leaving!” Jeff yelled back at him. He hesitated for a moment, then asked, still angry, “why aren’t you mad?”

“I’m a little mad at you right now,” Mike said bitterly, and the way Jeff’s mouth went into a tight line made him regret it. He regretted it even more when Jeff turned away from Mike, haltingly, and walked out of the room.

Mike thought about calling after him; he almost did in the silent space of time between Jeff reaching the foyer and Jeff finding his keys and slamming the door shut behind him. The noise made Mike’s head pound.

But he’d stayed put, hands awkwardly swaying at his side as he watched the space where Jeff had been standing. He wasn’t the one being unreasonable here.

Arnie whined in his sleep at the foot of the bed, bringing Mike back to the present.

_if you love me you’ll come_

Mike grumbled to himself and then threw back the covers.

Arnie lifted his head slightly to let Mike know he wouldn’t be getting up with him.

“Your other dad is a dick, Arnie,” Mike said on his way to the bathroom.

 

…

 

“You came,” was the first thing Jeff said when Mike approached him at the bar. He was leaning over his beer, holding his head up with his hand, his mouth a flat line. The sight made Mike sigh.

“’Course I came,” Mike said, settling on the stool next to Jeff’s. A moment passed, and then Mike reached for Jeff’s hand under the bar. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders when Jeff let him tangle their fingers together.

He let Jeff nurse his beer a little longer, until he was mostly just pushing his almost empty glass around the bar. Then he squeezed Jeff’s fingers and gave him a questioning look when Jeff tipped his head to glance at him sideways.  

Jeff took a moment to respond. “I thought you’d be more upset about leaving.”

Mike had the whole thirty minute Uber ride to figure out there’s an unsaid “me” at the end of that sentence, which had suddenly made Jeff’s outrage make a lot more sense to Mike.

“I kinda don’t have a choice in the matter, bud,” Mike said.

“Things have been really good since I left Columbus,” Jeff said, and it was a testament to how far they had come in those four years that Jeff even felt comfortable saying that, and that it didn’t make Mike want to run. He tightened his grip on Jeff’s hand instead. “I didn’t want us to go back to that.”

Mike remembered those days, though he tried not to think about them too often. There were a lot of missed texts and unanswered phone calls back then; schedules and time zones and a lot of unspoken feelings getting in the way.

“Manchester is a lot further than Columbus,” Jeff added warily. He swished what was left in his glass around and stared into the bottom of it rather than look at Mike. “Twelve hundred kilometers.”

Mike was surprised that Jeff knew that; he must have looked it up while he was waiting for Mike to get him.

“What’s twelve hundred kilometers?” Mike said lightly, but all it did was earn him a glare from Jeff.

“It’s a lot,” Jeff muttered. “And three hours ahead of here.”

He couldn’t fault Jeff there; time differences really sucked. But he wasn’t about to agree with Jeff’s point. He was sure they could—and would—do better this time.

“Hey,” Mike said, nudging Jeff’s knee with his own. “I came, didn’t I?”

Jeff met his gaze, smiling softly at him. He answered by squeezing Mike’s hand.

“Let’s get home then, eh?” Mike stood up. “I’ve got an early flight in the morning.”

Jeff shot him a look but let Mike pull him to his feet and, after leaving money for the drink and a tip, Mike lead him out the door to his truck.

When they made it back to the house, Mike did have to kick Arnie out of the room for a bit, early flight or no.

 

…

 

Mike was right, twelve hundred more kilometers didn’t matter much. The three hours difference threw them off more than anything, but Mike learned to send the text he wanted to send anyway, no matter the time, and how to make the most of a FaceTime call.

 

…

 

Kenora is two hundred and forty one kilometers closer to Los Angeles than Columbus, Jeff told Mike when he was packing to head back to California and Mike had to stay in Ontario.

Mike accepted the comment with a half-smile and a kiss but his stomach still knotted when he watched Jeff leave.

 

…

 

Washington, D.C. is six hundred and forty four kilometers further from Los Angeles than Columbus. There are a lot of missed texts and unanswered calls and things that FaceTime can’t make up for.

Mike still tried anyway.

…

Mike wasn’t ready for the season to end, especially after only playing five months this year; but once it ended, he didn’t wait long to head home. As much as he had liked D.C., the knowledge that he could be in Kenora and wasn’t had him restless.

After he’d picked up Arnie and Austin from his parents’ house, he set himself up on the deck at home. Feet up, beer in hand, and dogs by his side. It was dark already and the moon had risen over the lake, reflected on the surface of the water. It was nice to be back where he could appreciate this sight every night.

He stayed out for a while, getting up twice only to grab himself another beer. He let his thoughts drift, reminiscing about his favorite parts of the season and thinking ahead to what he might do this summer. He wanted to take the boat out as soon as possible.

Mike’s phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts. He pulled his phone out to see a text from Jeff.

_make it home okay?_

Mike smiled at his phone and sent back a quick thumbs up.

He wished Jeff was here—the only thing better than the peace and quiet of his house on the lake with his dogs, was all of that with Jeff, too.

The thought, innocent as it was, made Mike’s cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the cheesiness of it. But he couldn’t say it wasn’t true; the last year and a half apart had cemented what he’d learned in 2011—Mike liked it better when they were in the same place.

Mike picked his phone up again and tapped his way to his messages with Jeff. The King’s season had been over for a month already and Jeff had stuck around Los Angeles for the time being, but he’d be coming back to Canada soon. There was no reason he shouldn’t be on Mike’s deck watching the moon with him and his dogs, he thought, a little belligerently.

After a few more seconds of deliberation, Mike took a picture of the moon hanging over the water and sent it to Jeff, followed by:

_look at the moon then come over_

He stayed up a few minutes more, long enough that maybe Jeff had gone outside to look at the moon, and Mike could take some small comfort in the fact that they were sort of looking at it together—another thought that made Mike blush at the pure cheesiness of it. He didn’t plan on waiting up for a response though. Jeff had never been a reliable texter, something Mike had started to accept recently, and it might not be until sometime tomorrow that he remembered to answer Mike.

As he started to get up, his phone vibrated again.

Jeff had sent back his own picture of the moon.

_had to walk a little bit to get it_

Mike smiled at his phone again, but when he finally made it to bed he couldn’t help but feel a little bit more alone than he had when he’d arrived.

 

…

 

A loud, annoying bell woke Mike up.

He groaned—whatever time it was, it was too early for Mike to be awake. It was definitely too early for someone to be ringing his doorbell.

Mike didn’t get up. Maybe it was a salesman, or a package being delivered, or someone else who would leave something on his doorstep and go away on their own.

The doorbell rang again just as Mike began to drift off back to sleep. This time, both dogs started barking and it wasn’t long before Arnie nudged the door open and jumped on the bed.

“Okay, okay,” Mike said, pushing Arnie’s nose out of his face. He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. 11 A.M. He should probably take the dogs out anyway.

Mike took a quick drink of water from the glass on his nightstand and then headed down the hall to deal with the person at the door, who had rang the bell a third time.

He pulled the door open and after taking in who was standing on the other side, said, “You woke me up.”

“I figured,” Jeff answered, smiling softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “That’s why I rang three times.”

Mike couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face as he stepped back to let Jeff in. Jeff rolled his suitcase across the threshold and Mike closed the door behind him before following Jeff into the living room.

Jeff dropped his suitcase next to the couch and leaned against the back of it. Mike stopped in the doorway, hands in his pockets while he thought of something to say that wasn’t quite as embarrassing as “I’m really fucking happy you’re here.”   

Jeff broke the silence first. “We kind of suck at long distance.”

Mike had to laugh at the frankness of the comment. “We kind of do.”

“But I came,” Jeff said, barely more a statement than a question, an unusually earnest expression on his face.

Mike smiled in acknowledgment, which seemed to make Jeff relax.

“I took the earliest flight that I could,” Jeff said as Mike started toward him. “Sorry if I smell like plane.”

Mike stepped between Jeff’s legs and leaned in to kiss him for the first time since they had last played against each other almost two months ago.

“We can get better at it,” Mike said, leaning against Jeff and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“At kissing?” Jeff joked, followed by pressing a small, quick kiss to Mike’s temple as he wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist.

“At long distance,” Mike said, digging his fingers lightly into Jeff’s hip for a second. “I’m already great at kissing you.”

Jeff made a noise of agreement and squeezed Mike a little tighter. It felt good to have him here again, back in Mike’s house, in Mike’s arms.

He felt Jeff smile, and something inside him settled. He didn’t know where they’d be the next season, or any season after that, but wherever it was they could handle it.

Mike tucked himself a little closer to Jeff and said, “I’m really fucking happy you’re here.”

 


End file.
